


Souls and Graces

by dickspeightjrs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Sad, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Castiel (Supernatural), Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25769500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dickspeightjrs/pseuds/dickspeightjrs
Summary: It’s one of those in-between days. They can’t find any cases worth checking out and the next big bad hasn’t reared its ugly head yet.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 124





	Souls and Graces

It’s one of those in-between days. They can’t find any cases worth checking out and the next big bad hasn’t reared its ugly head yet. 

Dean’s pretty sure he heard Sam still get up at the crack of dawn and go for a run. Freak. 

Dean on the other hand, is perfectly content to remain in bed for as long as possible. Though, that might be less to do with his laziness, and more to do with the cute-ass angel doing his best impression of an octopus next to him. 

Dean loves to watch Castiel sleep. It’s the knowledge that Castiel has survived another day - there’s some angels out there who love to have his head on stick. It’s the fact that Cas feels relaxed enough with Dean that he can succumb to the calmness of sleep. It’s also because seeing the frown lines of Cas’ face smoothed out, the worry gone from his complexion, Dean can pretend for just a little while that they’re normal. That the only stress in their lives is normal people things like taxes and mortgages. 

Sometimes Dean thinks back to how this thing between them started. If John Winchester could see him now, in bed with a supernatural being, he’d flip his lid. But, Dean gave up trying to please that ghost years ago (though it wasn’t soon enough in Sam and Castiel’s opinion). How could something,  _ someone _ , that makes him feel light in the darkest of worlds be wrong?

Castiel shifts against Dean's side, nosing at Dean’s shoulder. It’s the shoulder that used to be home to Castiel’s handprint. Dean remembers feeling completely freaked out when he first saw it in the mirror of that abandoned gas station. The feelings of confusion - what creature could possibly be strong enough to  _ lift _ a soul from hell? Little did Dean know of the adventure he was about to embark on. 

Considering how their relationship turned out, Dean kinda misses having the scar, the connection to his angel for all to see. He is, of course, grateful for the amount of times he’s been brought back and glued back together over the years. But, he can’t help but feel nostalgic for the piece of Castiel he once carried. 

“You think too loudly,” Castiel murmurs against Dean’s shoulder. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Dean rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s crankiness. Since his angel mojo had been depleting, Cas had taken to sleep the most out of all the basic human customs. 

Looking down at the mess of scruffy, dark hair on the pillow, Dean found he couldn’t complain. 

“Sorry,” Dean whispers back. “Just thinking about the scar I used to have on my shoulder. Kinda miss it, y’know?”

Cas sighs deeply and heaves himself to pillow his head on Dean’s chest. The beating of Dean’s heart soothes him and reminds him on the day he laid that scar on Dean. The anxious moments waiting for Dean’s heart to start again, for him to wake and drag himself out of that grave. 

“I understand. It was a reminder of where our journey together started.” Castiel hums. “But it wasn’t just a mark on your skin. It is permanently etched onto your soul.”

“What?” Dean pulls away to sit up and look Castiel in the eyes. The angel looked back with nothing but sincerity. 

“When I rescued your soul from hell, you weren’t in your physical form. My grace bonded with your soul, leaving a permanent mark.” Castiel explains. “Honestly, I didn’t expect your human body to be scarred too. “I suppose the bond between us must have burned through.” 

Dean didn’t know what to say. “So, that time when you said that you and me have a more profound bond, you meant it?”

Castiel sits up against the headboard to be level with Dean and puts his hand on top of Dean’s. “I meant every word of it.” He whispers firmly. 

“B-but if it was your grace that bonded with my soul, how come it came out shaped like a handprint and not, I dunno, some giant blob.”

Castiel starts playing with Dean’s fingers that are resting on the bed covers. “I’ve wondered that too, over the years,” he says. “The only theory I’ve managed to come up with is that it’s more to do with the human element of your soul and less to do with my grace.”

Dean frowns. “I don’t know what you mean, Cas.”

Cas meets Dean’s eyes again with a mix of sadness and intense love. “It’s a basic human need to want to be touched. I believe that, when I pulled you from hell, you were touch-starved. Your time there left you feeling lonely, unloved, raw.” He raises a hand to brush through Dean’s hair. “Though, I also remember thinking at the time that those feelings may have been there from before your time in hell.”

Dean leans into Cas’ touch, tears beginning to form in his eyes. He just couldn’t get used to Castiel knowing him better than he knew himself. Seeing elements of himself that he tries hard to keep hidden away. He knows he’d longed for love for years, even before hell, (in whatever form he could take it - whether from Sam, his mom, his  _ dad _ ) but he never realised his soul ached for it too. 

Castiel seems to sense that Dean isn’t able to say anything yet so he just leans in to place a soft kiss of love on the hunter’s lips. Dean follows along willingly. 

When they pull away, Dean rests his head against Castiel’s, “I love you, Cas.” He breathes against the angel’s lips. 

“I love you too, Dean. Always.”

* * *

Later, the two men are still locked in a sleepy embrace. Sam has come back from his run (Dean could hear him clattering around the bunker corridors with his big moose limbs) but he hadn’t come and interrupted Dean and Castiel’s peaceful bubble. They’ve scarred Sam more than once by now - he’s learnt his lesson to stay away from their room at all costs.

A thought suddenly occurs to Dean. “Cas?”

Castiel hums from under the duvet. “Yes, Dean?” His muffled voice flows through. 

“There was that time when Balthazar said ‘the one with the dirty trench coat, who’s in love with you’...” He trails off letting the question go unasked. It had taken days to stop that phrase repeating in Dean’s head at the time. He didn’t want to dare to hope that Castiel actually felt the same way. 

Castiel’s face appears suddenly from the soft cocoon he’d created. He squints adorably at Dean. “I wasn’t aware he’d said such a thing,” he mumbles. “However, he probably said so because, along with their abilities to see a human’s soul, any angel could see the bond between your soul and my grace. It is not a common occurrence.” 

“So, any angel I meet knows that I’m taken? That I’m all yours?” Dean asks. “That I have been from the moment you rescued me from hell?” 

“If that’s how you’d like to think of it, then yes. I’m yours, Dean.” Castiel blushes.

“Awesome.” Dean smiles, leaning over to steal a kiss from his angel.  And he swears he could feel something deep inside him glow.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a prompt fill on my [tumblr](https://dickspeightjrs.tumblr.com/). (Follow me?)
> 
> Comment and give a kudos if you liked?


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